About Haiku About Haiku Haiku: a one-breath poem that discovers connection. The foremost poets of Japanese haiku tradition are Bashô, Buson, Issa, Shiki . The first three were artists of haikai: masters of the linked verse game known as haikai no renku: renku for short. The fourth, Shiki, coined the term "haiku," and envisioned it as an independent poetic genre. While technically—that is to say, in Japanese terms—Bashô, Buson, and Issa were poets of haikai; the term "haiku" is used by many English speakers to describe what they wrote. In other words, "haiku" in English covers a broader field than it does in Japanese, for it embraces both haikai and haiku. Throughout this website, I use the term "haiku" when referring to Issa. What makes it a poem? Haiku in English usually appears as an unrhymed three-line verse. Its use of intense, fragmentary imagery and its stress on rhythm and sound place it in the poetry side of the language spectrum. Can it be defined?

Cyril Childs writes, "With haiku, how can we define (i.e. objectively set precise boundaries to) a poetic form that has developed and evolved over many centuries and continues to evolve across national boundaries and language barriers? How can we define inclusively each and every example of such a tradition and exclude others? I suggest the only answer to both questions is 'We can't.'" ( Presence 21 2003: 23). Nevertheless, in 2004 the Haiku Society of America put forth this working definition: "A haiku is a short poem that uses imagistic language to convey the essence of an experience of nature or the season intuitively linked to the human condition." How many parts does it have? Though it can be presented on the page in three lines, a traditional Japanese haiku of Issa's era structurally consists of two parts with a pause in between. Its power as poetry often derives from juxtaposition of the two images and the sense of surprise or revelation that the second image produces. A good haiku is like a good joke: the set-up (image 1), then the punch line (image 2).

An example from Issa: spring rain-- the uneaten ducks are quacking Two images appear: (1) spring rain falling, (2) the ducks that have survived the cooking pots of winter quacking. Considered alone, each image doesn't amount to much of a poem. But set side-by-side, the rain and the ducks make a powerful, celebratory statement about life, survival, and the promise of spring. Does a haiku need 17 syllables? In Japan traditional haiku consists of seventeen "syllables" (onji) arranged in a 5-7-5 pattern. For example, here's the spring rain/quacking ducks poem in Japanese: harusame ya / kuware-nokori no / kamo ga naku Japanese words for the most part are polysyllabic, consisting of multiple syllables. English, in contrast, has loads of one syllable words ("spring," "rain" and "duck" for instance). For this reason, most haiku poets writing in English don't follow the 5-7-5 syllable rule. Seventeen syllables of English could potentially add up to seventeen separate words, making the "haiku" too long, lessening its intensity.

Why is haiku taught in elementary school as a 17-syllable poem? In many school curricula haiku is used to give students practice in recognizing syllables and manipulating language. Teachers often ignore the most important formal requirement of haiku: two image/statements separated by a pause. They treat haiku as if it were a poetic form: any combination of words in a 5-7-5 combination. In fact, haiku is a genre that requires much more than mere outer form. Does a haiku have to be about Nature? Only in the broadest sense, since human nature is included in Nature. In Japan, most haiku have a season word (kigo) that links the individual poem with the vast, archetypal round of the Year of Life. Is haiku a Buddhist genre? Because the originators of haiku were Buddhists, many Buddhist themes linger in the tradition, including respect for life, openness to the here and now, and a deep appreciation of how precious and fleeting life is. How should it be read?

Issa, a master of the form, invites his readers to partake not of abstract ideas but of experience—palpable, wondrous encounters with life: a swallow flying out the nose of a great bronze Buddha, cows moo-mooing in thick autumn mist, a butterfly resting on a dog curled to sleep. One does not read such poetry in a greedy rush to understand a theme, a point, or a concept. Rather, we do best by Issa if we open ourselves to each haiku with the same non-grasping attention we might pay to a bird warbling in a tree. After all, the poet insists, birdsong is haiku: like warbling pure haiku mountain cuckoo Like a bird twittering one-breath improvisations deep in the summer cedars on some shady, fathomless Japanese mountainside, Issa creates vivid, non-intellectual expressions of life on a living planet. The haiku moment awaits the reader who patiently allows words on the page to register as deeply felt reality. Here's a sampling of my own haiku...

Haiku: The Heart of Japan in 17 Syllables — The Tokyo Foundation Related Articles Haiku poet Madoka Mayuzumi delivered a special lecture at the Fifteenth Symposium on Japanese Language Education in Europe , held in late August 2010 at the University of Bucharest in Romania. Mayuzumi, appointed by Japan’s Agency of Cultural Affairs as a special advisor for cultural exchange, was invited to speak by the Tokyo Foundation, which provided assistance for the symposium and which has also been supporting Japanese language education at the University of Bucharest for many years through the Nippon Foundation Fund for Japanese Language Education Program . Prior to the symposium, Mayuzumi also delivered a lecture for members of the general public at the university entitled “Haiku: The Heart of Japan in 17 Syllables.” Over 100 Romanian students, cultural figures, and haiku enthusiasts attended the lecture and poetry reading. She also discussed haiku and Japanese culture with a smaller group following the lecture. A haiku is the world’s shortest poem consisting of just 17 syllables. Despite its succinct form, it contains the essence of Japanese people’s aesthetics, view of nature, philosophy, thought, and sentiments.

As a rule, haiku must have a kigo (a word connoting a season) and are rendered in three lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables each. The kigo is a reflection of the Japanese people’s sensitivity to the changing seasons, our love of nature, and our respect for form. These qualities are seen not just in haiku but in many other manifestations of Japan’s traditional culture. Just what exactly is a haiku, and what is its place in modern Japanese society? Let me explain with references to things that are close to the hearts of Japanese people. Encounter with Haiku I first discovered the rich world of haiku when I read a poem by Hisajo Sugita, who was active in the first half of the twentieth century: Hanagoromo / nuguya matuwaru / himo iroiro. This can be translated as: “Unfastening the cords / Around my spring kimono / One by one.” Hanagoromo is the kimono women traditionally wore to go cherry-blossom viewing. The Japanese love cherry blossoms; in the past, women used to order a new kimono early each spring to wear to blossom-viewing events.

These beautiful kimonos were called hanagoromo. The haiku depicts a woman who has returned from such an event is now disrobing in her room at night. The many layers of a hanagoromo, including undergarments, are held together by various cords. She has removed the cords one by one, and the kimono is now scattered around her feet, still warm from being next to her skin. She stands unfettered in her room, outside of which stand cherry trees in full bloom. The poem elegantly captures the sensuous beauty of this scene, but there is much more that Hisajo tried to convey. She was born in 1890, a time when publishing poems as a form of self-expression was not considered proper for a woman, and she was harshly criticized by her contemporaries. Her marriage, too, was unhappy, and her last days were spent in a mental hospital. She was a highly talented poet yet did not publish a single collection of her works during her lifetime. The cords around the woman’s feet in the haiku are a metaphor for the various social stigmas that kept women bound in her day.

The true artistry of this poem is that while it is an expression of Hisajo’s inner sorrow and torment—which was no doubt shared by many women of her time—such sentiments are not conveyed bluntly but transformed into something more refined and beautiful. This, for me, is the true appeal of haiku. By avoiding direct emotional expression, the author is cleansed of and is able to transcend those emotions. Our modern society has become full of words and explanations, so it was with great surprise and joy that I chanced upon such a condensed, refined, and simple poetic form. That is how I developed a deep love for haiku. History of Haiku The haiku was born in the late fifteenth century. It was originally part of a much longer poetic form called renga, which literally means “linked verse.” Renga were written by two or more persons by linking stanzas comprising lines of 5, 7, 5, 7, and 7 syllables each. Haiku are essentially the first three lines of this older form.

Initially called hokku (literally, “first verse”), the haiku was elevated into a refined poetic style in the seventeenth century by Matsuo Basho and renamed haiku by Shiki Masaoka at the end of the nineteenth century. Today, haiku are written in many different languages around the world. European Council President Herman Von Rompuy is a noted lover and writer of haiku who just recently published a collection of his poems. Enthusiasts in France include former President Jacques Chirac and Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin. The haiku-writing population in Japan is said to number 8 million to 10 million. Innumerable submissions are made each week to daily newspapers, weeklies, and other magazines that feature sections for haiku and similar short verses written by readers. These are not works by professional poets but by members of the general public. In a world where poetry as a literary art form is now waning—even new editions of Shakespeare’s sonnets have print runs of only around 2,000 copies—the love of haiku, tanka, senryu, and other short poetic forms among the Japanese people still endures.

Haiku have also had a broad influence on other poetic genres and in many other countries. Soviet Russian film director Sergei Eisenstein is said to have gained hints for his theory of montage in cinema from the haiku form. And John Lennon reportedly drew inspiration from haiku when he wrote his hit song, “Imagine.” Haiku Conventions Haiku, as a rule, have three lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables each and contains a kigo, which indicates a season. This emphasis on a seasonal element is probably an outgrowth of the Japanese people’s sensitivity to nature. Each country has its own areas of scenic beauty and a unique way of relating to nature. The Japanese approach is to become completely one with it. For example, popular seasonal pastimes in Japan include cherry-blossom viewing, firefly viewing, and autumn-foliage viewing. These activities are referred to as gari in Japanese, which literally means to “hunt”; the purpose of these events is, of course, not to take home cherry or maple branches as spoils. The reference to gari indicates that you are not merely looking at beautiful scenes of nature from afar but stepping into their midst and appreciating them up close and on their own terms.

There are many seasonal kigo to describe mountains. In the spring, for instance, the hills are said to be “smiling.” This refers to the warm, gentle stirrings of life, like the appearance of shooting buds and blossoming flowers and the chirping of birds. In the summer, mountains “trickle”; with their new coat of green leaves, trees are so full of life that water seems to ooze from them. In the fall, the mountains turn red and golden. Maples don a coat of bright red leaves, while other trees turn yellow or brown. This is as if the mountains have “adorned” themselves with blush makeup. When the trees drop their leaves in the winter and lie quietly, the mountains are said to be “sleeping.” By thus personifying nature, a very close affinity with it is created. The “smiling” mountain in the spring seems to share with us the joy of having endured and overcome the cold, harsh winter. The Japanese people have traditionally been heavily influenced by changes in the seasons and have incorporated those changes in their lifestyles. In early spring, we await the first blossoming of flowers, and in the early summer we enjoy viewing the dance of fireflies in the evening.

As the summer heat intensifies, we hang wind chimes by the window and listen to the breeze. Autumn is the time to appreciate the full moon, the fall colors, and the song of crickets. And winter brings pure, white snow. While appreciation of such seasonal changes has diminished in Tokyo and other modern cities, it is still an enduring part of everyday life in older parts of the country, like the ancient capital of Kyoto. The kigo evolved from cultivating such close ties with nature. Seasons always come and go, even during times of social upheaval like warfare. The full moon appears each month, and cherries always blossom in the spring. The Japanese people have lived with these seasonal changes and shared the joys, sorrows, and concerns that the changes bring. The kigo encapsulates all these sentiments, our happiness, our pain, our tears, and even our values and aesthetics. It is the secret behind the haiku’s ability to make profound statements with just 17 sounds. The 5-7-5 syllable format also gives haiku a distinctive rhythm. Traditional manifestations of Japanese culture, such as the noh theater, flower arrangement, and tea ceremony, all make use of conventionalized forms.

Many people comment that haiku is already restricted by being so short and having fixed syllables and wonder why there is a need for a kigo. Ironically, it is the rigid structure and seasonal requirement that give poets the freedom to let their imagination run free. Writing a poem can be likened to an Olympic event. One of the best-known Romanian athletes is Nadia Comaneci. If she stepped outside the 12-meter by 12-meter performing area in the floor exercise, for instance, points would have been deducted from her score. If, on the other hand, she limited her movements to the center of the mat to avoid a penalty, her score would have been low. The highest points are given to exercises that use the entire floor, including along the perimeter. A gymnast’s foot landing firmly just inside the perimeter after a flip along the diagonal is breathtaking and beautiful because of the tension created by the danger of falling out of bounds. A haiku is like the 12-meter-square floor. It is because we must operate within the confines of a narrow, constricting poetic structure that we are compelled to give depth to our words.

We must pare down and strip away all superfluous elements until all we have left is the bare essence; it is the tension created by the need to accommodate a prescribed shape that enhances the reverberating beauty of a poem. Haiku as a Form of Greeting Haiku is sometimes described as a form of greeting, much like “hello,” “goodbye,” and “thank you.” A haiku is dedicated to the people—as well as birds, flowers, and other forms of life—that we happen to meet as our contemporaries. A haiku about cherry blossoms is a thank-you letter for having endured the long, harsh winter to delight us in the spring. In so doing, the fleeting pleasures provided by the sight of a cherry tree in full bloom can be eternalized in verse. Composing a haiku is an act of reciprocation for the wonders and delights that nature provides. The cherry blossoms that Basho wrote about three centuries ago are still as radiant as ever in the vase of his haiku. Between the Lines The Japanese people are sometimes thought of as being vague and unable to say “no.” But this is not entirely accurate. It is not that we cannot say “no” but that we do not need to say it.

It is simply hinted, and the hint is understood. People can read “between the lines” of short utterances and guess what the other person is trying to say. Japanese culture is thus a “sympathetic” one, and the ultimate manifestation of this phenomenon is the haiku. The succinct form of the haiku leaves plenty of space for what was left unsaid. There is an eloquence to this silence, and it is this quality that characterizes many aspects of Japanese culture. Movement in the noh theater, for example, is regarded as being quite subdued, but, again, it is the stripping away of all nonessential motion that gives richness and depth to the intervals between each stage movement. Perhaps the same can also be said of food. A chef that studied in France noted that if French cuisine uses 10 parts seasoning, Japanese dishes only use 5. A deliberate choice is made not to add too many flavors. This is not to say that Japanese food is bland; great effort is made in preparing the ingredients and adding “hidden” seasoning, but this is done in subtle ways that are not obvious. It is up to the diner to complete the gastronomical experience.

Similarly, in the Japanese art of flower arrangement, flowers do not fill up the entire space. The Sogetsu school of ikebana, where I used to study, utilizes the concepts of shin, soe, and hikae to prescribe the positions and angles of the stems. There is a broad opening between soe (second longest) and hikae (short) stems, which forms an integral part of the floral arrangement. In fact, one ikebana artist noted that the focus of attention when creating an arrangement was not the flowers themselves but the space between them. I feel the same way when writing a haiku. While I am weaving together words to create a poem, I am at the same time weaving the spaces between them in my tapestry. And to gain a full appreciation of Japanese culture, it is essential that you not only read between the lines but also smell and feel the spaces and pauses, filling in the missing pieces on your own. Readers must draw from their own experience to reproduce the epiphany felt by the author in the spaces that have been left unfilled. A haiku is thus a joint undertaking between the author and reader.

It is often said that a haiku cannot be written that is richer or deeper than the person creating them. In a similar vein, a reader whose life experiences are limited will be unable to share in the richness or depth of the sentiments expressed. It is between the lines—in the words that have been left unsaid—that the haiku communicates the poet’s deepest sentiments and thoughts. In the words of haiku master Basho, “What is left after everything there is to say has been said?” Words alone cannot describe the fullness of the human experience. The Spirit of Haiku Composing a haiku means giving a voice to the “other” appearing before our eyes and taking a slice of Earth’s life. By so doing, we ourselves tap into the cosmic source of life and create a synchronicity and fraternity with other living beings. This is also a process of self-discovery, a journey to the depths of one’s own hearts. It is through the “other” that we discover things about ourselves. Basho used the phrase karo tosen to describe haiku. Karo means a brazier (stove) in the summer, and tosen is a fan in the winter.

In other words, haiku may serve no practical use in our present reality but are nonetheless of great importance. People do not need haiku to live, nor will haiku fill hungry stomachs. But to lead a richer life, haiku—as well as other forms of culture and art—can be of paramount importance. Culture and art may not be practical, but modern society has lost so much in its relentless pursuit of the practical lifestyle. This is something that I believe needs to be reexamined. By embracing the world that remains unexpressed, the haiku attains unity with the fullness of the natural world. Through haiku, one can become one with a flowering violet, for example; you come to respect all forms of life, both human and otherwise. I am convinced that such an appreciation of the preciousness of life—which can perhaps be called the spirit of haiku—can help us find solutions to conflicts between peoples, environmental degradation, and many other problems besetting modern society.

How to Write a Haiku Poem (with Sample Poems) - wikiHow How to Write a Haiku Poem Four Parts: Sample Haiku Choose a Haiku Subject Use Sensory Language Become a Haiku Writer Community Q&A Haiku (俳句 high-koo) are short three-line poems with a 5-7-5 syllable structure that use sensory language to capture a feeling or image. They are often inspired by an element of nature, a moment of beauty, or another poignant experience. Haiku poetry was originally developed by Japanese poets, and the form was adopted (and adapted) by virtually every modern language, including English. The secret to writing great haiku is to be observant and appreciate nature, as detailed below. Steps Choose a Haiku Subject 1 Distill a poignant experience. Haiku traditionally focuses on details of one's environment that relate to the human condition. Think of a haiku as a meditation of sorts that conveys an objective image or feeling without employing subjective judgment and analysis. When you see or notice something that makes you want to say to others, "Look at that," the experience may well be suitable for a haiku.

Japanese poets traditionally used haiku to capture and distill a fleeting natural image, such as a frog jumping into a pond, rain falling onto leaves, or a flower bending in the wind. Many people go for walks just to find new inspiration for their poetry, known in Japan as ginkgo walks. Contemporary haiku may stray from nature as a subject. Urban environments, emotions, relationships and even humorous topics may be haiku subjects. 2 Include a seasonal reference. [1] A reference to the season or changing of the seasons, referred to in Japanese as kigo, is an essential element of haiku. The reference may be obvious, as in using a word like "spring" or "autumn" to indicate the season, or it might be subtler. For example, mentioning wisteria, which flower during the summer, can subtly indicate the season. Note the kigo in this poem by Fukuda Chiyo-ni: morning glory! Use Sensory Language 1 Describe the details. Haiku are comprised of details observed by the five senses. The poet witnesses an event and uses words to distill that experience so others may understand it in some way.

Once you have chosen a subject for your haiku, think about what details you want to describe. Call the subject to mind and explore these questions: What did you notice about the subject? What colors, textures, and contrasts did you observe? How did the subject sound? What was the tenor and volume of the event that took place? Did it have a smell, or a taste? How can you accurately describe the way it felt? 2 Show, don't tell. Haiku are about moments of objective experience, not subjective interpretation or analysis of those events. Haiku have been called "unfinished" poetry because they require the readers to finish the poems in their own hearts. Because of this, it's important to show the readers something true about the moment's existence, rather than telling the readers what emotions it conjured in you. [2] Let the readers feel their own emotions in reaction to the images — as poets, we understand the need to bare all, but the very universality of haiku ensures that your readers will get the message, so don't fret, fellow poet. Use understated, subtle imagery. For instance, instead of saying it's summer, focus on the slant of the sun or the heavy air.

Don't use clichés. Lines that readers recognize, such as "dark, stormy night," tend to lose their power over time. Ponder the image you want to describe and use inventive, original language to convey meaning. Don't overuse a thesaurus to find uncommon words; rather, simply write about what you saw and want to express in the truest language you know. Part 3 Become a Haiku Writer 1 Be inspired. In the tradition of the great haiku poets, go outside for inspiration. Take a walk and tune in to your surroundings. Which details in your environment speak to you? What makes them stand out? Carry a notebook to write down lines as they come to you. You never know when the sight of a stone in a stream, a rat skipping over subway tracks, or a cap of clouds over hills in the distance might inspire you to write a haiku. Read other haiku writers. The beauty and simplicity of the haiku form has inspired thousands of writers in many different languages. Reading other haiku can help spur your own imagination into motion. 2 Practice. Like any other art, haiku takes practice.

Bashō, who is considered to be the greatest haiku poet of all time, said that each haiku should be said a thousand times on the tongue. Draft and redraft every poem until the meaning is perfectly expressed. Remember that you don't have to adhere to the 5–7–5 syllable pattern, and that a true literary haiku includes a kigo, a two-part juxtapositional structure, and primarily objective sensory imagery. While drafting, use adverbs sparingly if at all — many adverbs can be dropped without compromising meaning, and they take up syllables that could be used for description. Similar advice applies to long or flowery words — the point of haiku is to reveal simple and universal truths, and your extensive vocabulary is better suited to a longer poetic form. 3 Communicate with other poets. For serious students of haiku, it is worthwhile to join organizations such as the Haiku Society of America, Haiku Canada, the British Haiku Society, or one of the many similar organizations elsewhere in the world. It is also worthwhile to subscribe to leading haiku journals such as Modern Haiku and Frogpond to learn more about the art form.

Community Q&A Is there a minimum or maximum number of lines I can write and do they need to rhyme? wikiHow Contributor Yes, you have to write three lines in a haiku but they do not have to rhyme (unless you want them to). How many lines can I put in a haiku? Is it limited to just three lines in one paragraph, or can I use multiple paragraphs? wikiHow Contributor You can use multiple paragraphs, just like the examples. But each paragraph (or stanza, rather) must follow the right syllable format in order to be considered a haiku. Do Haiku poems have a word limit? wikiHow Contributor Technically, 17 words, as they are limited to 5 syllables in the first line, 7 in the second, and 5 in the last. However, this presumes that each word is a single syllable; any words using multiple syllables would reduce the number from 17. Why are haiku poems so short? wikiHow Contributor It's supposed to be a simple message that captures a simple feeling, and leaves further reflection/imagination up to the reader. That's simply what this particular style was designed for.

You are free to write a poem of any length and any syllable scheme you want - it just won't be called a haiku. Does a haiku need a title? wikiHow Contributor As with other written art forms, it could have a title or simply be "Untitled." Haiku with titles may be more memorable. Why is haiku called 'haiku'? wikiHow Contributor Haikus were created in Japan and originally called "haikai no ku," which translates to "light verse." That was eventually simplified to "haiku." How many syllables it should have? wikiHow Contributor Can a haiku rhyme? wikiHow Contributor If this question (or a similar one) is answered twice in this section, please click here to let us know. Tips Unlike Western poems, haikus generally don't rhyme or use enjambment — that is, each line contains a complete phrase or thought without running over to the next line. Contemporary haiku poets may write poems that are just a short fragment with three or fewer words. Some people also write "mini-haiku" with 3–5–3 syllables.

Haiku originated from haikai no renga, a collaborative group poem that is usually one hundred verses in length. The hokku, or starting verse, of renga collaborations indicated the season and also contained a cutting word. The haiku as its own form of poetry continues in this tradition. Why “No 5-7-5”? - NaHaiWriMo NaHaiWriMo National Haiku Writing Month starts on 1 February 2017 This site and “No 5-7-5” logo copyright © 2010–2017 National Haiku Writing Month ‎ > ‎ Why “No 5-7-5”? Okay, this essay is long, but give it a read if you want to understand why it’s an urban myth to think of English-language haiku merely in terms of 5-7-5 syllables. National Haiku Writing Month (NaHaiWriMo) is not really anti-5-7-5, but counting syllables is hardly the only target for haiku (if at all). Find out why you don’t need to aim at such a syllable pattern in English.

+ “The term syllable is an inaccurate way of describing the actual metrical units of Japanese poetry.” —Haruo Shirane, in his introduction to Kōji Kawamoto’s The Poetics of Japanese Verse (Tokyo: University of Tokyo Press, 2000) “I don’t think counting 5,7,5 syllables is necessary or desirable. To reflect the natural world, and the season, is to reflect what is.” —Gary Snyder You may have thought that haiku was supposed to be 5-7-5, so what’s up with the logo for National Haiku Writing Month—NaHaiWriMo? Is haiku 5-7-5 or not? Well, yes and no. In Japanese, yes, haiku is indeed traditionally 5-7-5. But 5-7-5 what? In English and other languages, haiku has mistakenly been taught as having 5-7-5 syllables, but that’s not really accurate. You probably aren’t in the mood for a linguistics lecture that explains all the reasons why, but Japanese haiku counts sounds, not strictly syllables.

For example, the word “haiku” itself counts as two syllables in English (hi-ku), but three sounds in Japanese (ha-i-ku). This isn’t how “haiku” is said in Japanese, but it is how its sounds are counted. Similarly, consider “Tokyo.” How many syllables? Most Westerners, thinking that Japan’s capital city is pronounced as “toe-key-oh,” will say three syllables, but that’s incorrect. It’s actually pronounced as “toe-kyo.” So two syllables, right? Actually, no. Rather, it counts as “toe-oh-kyo-oh”—four syllables. Or rather, sounds. There are other differences, too. For example, if a word ends with the letter “n,” that letter is counted as a separate sound (all words in Japanese end with vowels, or sometimes the “n” sound). So how many sounds are counted in the word “Nippon,” Japan’s name for itself? It actually counts as four sounds (nip-p-on-n). And consider words that Japanese has borrowed from other languages, and how they gain more sounds in Japanese.

For example, “Christmas” (with its consonant clusters) becomes something like “ka-ri-sa-ta-ma-su” or “ka-ri-sa-ma-su.” In The Haiku Apprentice, Abigail Friedman points out that “scarf” becomes “su-ka-a-fu”—an increase from one syllable to four sounds. In The Poetics of Japanese Verse, Koji Sakamoto uses the word “sign” as a further example. We would count it as one syllable, but the Japanese would count it as three sounds (sigh-ya-n). Sure, some words have the same number of sounds (for example, “sushi” is two sounds or syllables in both languages), but there are enough words that count differently for practically all translators, linguists, scholars, and leading haiku poets to say and show that about 10 to 14 syllables is approximately equal to the 17 sounds they count in Japanese haiku. If you’re writing a poem of 17 syllables in English, you’re actually writing something that contains significantly more content than 17 sounds contain in Japanese.

In fact, I would even say that writing 5-7-5 syllables in English is a violation of the haiku form rather than a preservation of it. Furthermore, Japanese has another difference that makes 5-7-5 syllables sort of an “urban myth” for haiku in English. In addition to counting sounds and syllables differently, most Japanese words tend to have more sounds or syllables than their English counterparts. For example, when we say “cuckoo” (two syllables), the Japanese say “hototogisu” (five syllables). Some Japanese words have the same number of syllables as their English equivalents (and occasionally fewer), but a great majority of Japanese words have more syllables than the same concepts in English. In Japanese, every consonant is pronounced with a vowel (with the exception of the “n” sound, which is counted as a separate sound at the ends of words and in certain other cases, as already mentioned). Quite simply, because Japanese words have more syllables, you can say a lot more in 17 syllables in English than you can in Japanese.

That’s why, if you write a 17-syllable haiku in English, more often than not one entire line of its three lines will have to be amputated to make the poem fit 17 sounds in Japanese (if you translate it). Thus, despite the way haiku has been widely mistaught in English for decades as 5-7-5 syllables, it actually should not surprise you that the vast majority of haiku published in leading haiku journals and anthologies are not 5-7-5. Another factor to be aware of is that the misguided focus on 5-7-5 syllables in English puts excess emphasis on form, to the great detriment of content and other strategies necessary to writing haiku. Two of these strategies, often completely ignored and not taught in Western schools, are the use of a kigo, or season word, and a kireji, or cutting word, and they are just two of the vital aspects of haiku that make this art much more challenging than most people realize.

In his book Empire of Signs, Roland Barthes said that “Haiku has this rather fantasmagorical property: that we always suppose we ourselves can write such things easily.” Specifically, a haiku tries to invoke the time of year with a word that is typical of that season, such as snow for winter, or frog for spring. In Japanese, lists of season words have become highly sophisticated, and have been collected into numerous references works called saijiki, which include the season words, explanations, and sample poems. Some saijiki (the word, like haiku, is both singular and plural) are as big as encyclopedias. Saijiki are also available as dedicated electronic devices, or as applications for mobile phones and computers. Japanese haiku poets routinely consult a saijiki to see that they’ve used their kigo correctly. Season words serve not only to ground the poem in a particular season, but to allude to other poems that have employed the same season word. And then consider the kireji, which literally means “cutting word.” In Japanese, traditional haiku include words that function like a spoken sort of punctuation.

More importantly, they cut the poem into two parts, creating a sort of juxtaposition, not only grammatically but also imagistically. The point is to carefully pair two images together in such a way that a shift or disjunction occurs between them. The art of haiku lies in creating the right amount of distance between the two parts, so the leap is neither too far (and thus obscure) or too close (and thus too obvious). By focusing on concrete images rather than judgment or analysis, the two juxtaposed parts of a haiku allow the reader to feel what the poet felt, without the poet telling the reader what to feel. In fact, that’s a really good piece of advice to remember as you write your own haiku: Don’t write about your feelings. Instead, write about what caused your feelings. The point of haiku is indeed to convey feeling, not ideas, concepts, or judgments.

Consider this haiku of mine, which won first place in the 2000 Henderson haiku contest, sponsored by the Haiku Society of America: Famous Haiku Poems - Famous Haiku Examples Haiku is a very short poem of around 17 syllables over three lines and is usually taught as a 5 7 5 syllable pattern. This is an attempt to imitate the Japanese sound pattern of haiku, but sound and syllable differences between Japanese and English make it impossible to create a traditional haiku in the English language. So sticking to the 5 7 5 pattern you were most likely taught in school is not necessary. Some modern poets suggest that English haiku should contain less than 17 syllables with a general pattern of: short - long - short. So you will often see haiku with a pattern of 3 - 5 - 3 or even 2 - 3 - 2. What is more important is the sound of the poem and the theme. Nature and the seasons are very traditional haiku themes, as you will see. (Read some very famous nature haiku poems.) But I love experimenting and found the form to be perfect for encasing short, inspiring thoughts.

So, taking liberty I wrote some inspirational haiku poems. First though, let's look at some very famous haiku poems showcasing the best of haiku poets. Famous Haiku Poems - Haiku Poems Famous Haiku written by master haiku poets such as Basho, Shiki, and Issa. Notice how the fleetingness of life mixes with the fleeting of time and nature in many of these poems. Matsu Basho

Question: How many syllables are there in a traditional Japanese 'haiku?
Answer: Seventeen